


Second Nature

by NonbinaryHylian (chicagoartnerd)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Elita wants to sub for The Mistress of Flame really bad y'all, Erotic Electrostimulation, F/F, Femdomme, First Dates, Handcuffs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Play, Rope Bondage, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, and she's pissed off about it, consensual torture, first time subbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicagoartnerd/pseuds/NonbinaryHylian
Summary: Elita One is troubled by new and unsettling desires when comes to her fellow council member The Mistress of Flame.Things quickly spiral out of her carefully crafted control, luckily for her, The Mistress is all too happy to take the reigns.
Relationships: Elita One/Mistress of Flame
Comments: 16
Kudos: 19





	Second Nature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron/gifts).



Elita One bowed for no one. 

But she desperately wanted to kneel for the Mistress of Flame.

That desire of hers chaffed and ground against the space between her shoulders, stroked fire up under her abdominal plating, and made her helm buzz with anticipation. And to her deepening shame, it made her simultaneously wet and hard. Whatever this feeling was it was dangerous, it was making her hasty. Sloppy. Imprecise. 

Elita One hated listening to The Mistress of Flame speak during the Council of Worlds because the Mistress’s deceptively soft and lilting voice promised her things she’d never dared to want before. Dark things.

To be _dominated_. To be bound, laid vulnerable, completely at another’s mercy. To be teased and tormented and denied. 

Elita One loved power. Craved it. Rejoiced in it. She knew her way of doing things was the right way. The only right way. You had to be entirely sure of yourself in order to run Carcer as she had. She was First for a reason. Weakness was never fostered there on their Titan. Vulnerability could get you killed and your parts recycled into a hull patch, or in her particular case, a throne. 

Not to mention The Mistress of Flame was the council representative from Caminus, a political leader much like herself. One of a rival nation state. She was not quite the head of state like Elita was but the way her people looked to her for guidance and leadership; The Mistress wasn’t the ruler of Caminus in name only. 

Any submissiveness towards her, any deferential treatment, would be disastrous for Carcer’s position in the Council of Worlds. Elita would be putting her own interests before that of her people and that was insufferable to her. Inexcusable. As much as she had pride, she would also have done anything for her people. Sacrificed anything. So this craving, this _desire_ of hers, was not to be permitted. It couldn’t be borne. 

That fact, unfortunately, only made her want The Mistress of Flame _more_. 

These thoughts were starting to consume her processor in ways that infuriated and terrified her. It had gotten so bad even her subordinates had noticed. Obsidian, ever astute and sharply cunning Obsidian, had offered her a solution of sorts. He could tell she wasn’t herself, that she was acting erratically.Elita One knew she was being harsh for no reason, snapping and snarling and generally being restless towards her people. So much so that those outside of Carcer’s populace had noticed as well. 

Obsidian had known her longer than any of them, they had been forged on the same day, and had clawed their way to the top together, although she had always been first. He had deduced what she _needed_ , or at least _whom_ she needed, and then quietly suggested she approach The Mistress for a one night affair. Something casual with no need for further exploration, just interfacing. Very coyly he had mentioned maybe she should ask to be in the receptive role if that was what she wanted to get out of her system. She had frowned at the time but they both knew she wanted something she usually wasn’t allowed to want. Vulnerability. 

Obsidian didn’t know the specifics but he had guessed the correct shape of it. 

Elita wasn’t sure how he would react if he knew exactly all the things she desperately wanted The Mistress to do to her but she knew how her people would react. Weakness was an invitation to be challenged for leadership on Carcer. So for a few cycles Obsidian’s proposition of one night of interfacing with the Mistress of Flame sounded like an excellent idea. Then the prickling doubt started to creep in. 

Elita One had to be entirely sure of her motives and actions at all times. That was the nature of being a leader who kept her people alive in barren deep space for hundreds of thousands of years. She couldn’t be...frivolous, or self-indulgent. 

This proposition would be both. 

Also there was the awful chance The Mistress of Flame would turn her down. That she would laugh at her offer, deride her for even daring to ask such a thing. Use it against her as a lever to manipulate her in ways she hated. Which it most certainly was a lever or button to push. To even ask her would be to reveal a soft spot, a gap between the plating above her throat, wide enough to insert the stiletto point of a heel. 

That thought alone made her shiver in embarrassing ways, so she buried it. Or tried to. Down several subfolders deep with all the rest of deeply ill-advised wanting. Elita One did so for several more cycles until finally, the insatiable gnawing thing inside her broke loose. It took hold of her suddenly weak vocalizer and asked what little she dared to voice aloud in public.

“Mistress of Flame may I have a word with you in private.” 

It was after a council meeting and most of the other delegates had departed. Elita gazed imperiously at the smaller blue and white bot next to The Mistress, Lightbright, inconsequential for a cityspeaker and nothing like the meddlesome Windblade or the powerful Mistress. Forgettable. She wasn’t who Elita One was looking at anyway. 

The Mistress of Flame’s golden optics settled on Elita skeptically as she turned to Lightbright to dismiss her anyway. “Ah. It seems the representative of Carcer wishes to have a word with me, we will discuss the relocation effort later Lightbright.”

Lightbright left but shot Elita a weary look as she did. Now it was just the two of them, all alone in the empty council room. Elita One wouldn’t have put it past Starscream to have wired the whole place for surveillance purposes. Rattrap certainly had, maybe not on the Emperor’s behalf either. Obsidian would have done the same for her at any rate. So she gestured stiffly all around the room and then put a finger to her lips. The Mistress’s optics narrowed as she nodded in agreement. 

Elita reset her vocalizer and tried not to betray her nervousness too much. “I was wondering if perhaps you would join me for a meal later. There’s something I wish to discuss with you, that is, in a non-official capacity as council representatives. It is a social proposal not a political one.” Elita was close enough to her now, looking up at her because The Mistress was about a head and shoulders taller than she was-and by the Nine Hells that shouldn’t have been hot but it was-to notice her yellow optics flare in interest.

She inclined her head at Elita elegantly in a nod before she spoke. “Hmmm. And what would the leader of fiercely independent, and admittedly agnostic, Carcer want with me? Are you looking to be converted Elita One?” Her delicate white mouth twisted up into a smirk as she spoke the last bit.

She had to fight not to sink her fangs into her lip hard enough to draw energon. That would be...too obvious. Elita met her gaze as fearlessly as she could manage. “Not in the way you’re imagining no. There is something important I want from you. But as I said, we should discuss it elsewhere over some energon in a more _intimate_ environment.” 

The Mistress of Flame quirked a red brow ridge at that, then she seemed to think about it before lowering her head and neck into a seamless bow. “Very well, have it your way Elita One. Here is my personal comm channel. Send me the location and time you wish to meet. You seem to prefer bluntness so let me be exceedingly blunt. I will come alone but know this: I can use this hammer just as well as you can use your laser cannon, I will not be easily captured or subdued so this better not be some sort of clumsy trap. If you want to take me down you won’t find it easy.”

That time she did bite her lip. _Frag_. She ran her tongue over the new indent in it hastily before pressing on. “I’m sure my word doesn’t mean much to you Mistress but I swear on my position as First of Carcer that I mean you no harm. Quite the opposite actually, but we will discuss that later. I shall see you this evening then.”

And with that she bowed formally at the shoulders and then beat a hasty retreat out of the room. On the way out she did notice that The Mistress of Flame looked intrigued and slightly confused but not angry.

Elita hadn’t been rejected, not yet, somehow this wasn’t a complete disaster. There was still plenty that could go quite badly though. Even if she agreed, even if The Mistress did every dark and filthy thing Elita One wanted her to, what if neither of them enjoyed it? What if Elita One was the only one who did? Could she live with using The Mistress of Flame in such a way? Did her own gratification matter that much to her? Once again, more than a little angry at herself, she sent the coordinates for their...dinner later and spent the rest of the day pacing her quarters anxiously. Practically wearing a tread in the metal floor of her own living room.

The restaurant Elita had comm’d her to meet her at was upscale and catered specifically to wealthy clientele who wanted to be seen and not overheard. All of the booths came with silencer fields. Elita was quite sure half the patrons there were criminals and the other half were having illicit affairs. The location most certainly should have clued The Mistress into what her intentions were tonight. 

She arrived early and sat at the booth sipping her flat mid-grade. Elita One didn’t intend to get overcharged tonight. She wanted to be sober and fully aware of everything she was about to do. Everything she wanted to do. If tonight went in the direction she hoped, she was going to burn every nanosecond of it into her processor, bright and terrible and permanent. She intended to enjoy the memories in private for a long time to come. As this would be the only time she was going to allow herself this particular indulgence.

The Mistress of Flame was perfectly punctual and in seeing her approach the table Elita One realized her first mistake. 

She had polished her plating with some sort of pearlescent wax, her white and gold stomach and thighs shimmered beautifully in the low magenta light of the restaurant. The Mistress had also changed her cloak and subspaced her Forgehammer. It wasn’t the same yellow and orange ceremonial robe she wore for the council meetings, instead it was a deep sumptuous red fading to black like the space between the stars. 

Elita hadn’t changed anything about her frame or appearance. She hadn’t even bothered to hit the washracks after their earlier council meeting. By the Unmaker she was not going to panic about this. She had stared down an entire army of ravenous sharkticons and smiled at the challenge. This was nothing. Yet she felt tremendously out of her depth, not for the first time when it came to The Mistress. 

The Mistress of Flame paused briefly to look at her questioningly before sitting down, folding herself gracefully into the booth across from Elita One. Every one of her motions were calculated, polished, smooth, and poised. There was also an economical nature to her gestures that betrayed she was a trained warrior. All things Elita found almost unbearably attractive. She was staring at her but couldn’t bring herself to stop. 

The Mistress of Flame inclined her head slightly and then laid her massive white hands palm up on the table as she spoke. “I am here as you requested. I might have made an assumption as to the nature of this conversation beforehand I shouldn’t have. But here I am nonetheless. So tell me Elita One, what do you want from me?”

_Everything._

She couldn’t say that, even though the thought rolled through her whole frame like a rushing wave of bubbling oil. She had rehearsed this. Her proposal. She had thoroughly prepared her own habsuite with the necessary...equipment. Elita One could handle this. 

This was a negotiation of terms. She didn’t often deign to do so, but she knew how. And from how the The Mistress had decided to polish herself up, Elita was more than confident she wouldn’t be outright rejected. Not for a night of casual interfacing anyway, the other things, perhaps she would still turn her down for. She wasn’t ready to ask for them yet anyway. 

Elita cleared her intake and then laid her own magenta hands on the table, open and palm up like The Mistress had. A show of peace and no ill-intent. “You didn’t assume wrongly Mistress, I simply...didn’t think to alter my frame to impress like you have. You look stunning by the way. The effort is noticed and appreciated. Because yes, I have asked you here because I want to spend more intimate time with you, outside of our roles as Council Representatives.”

That earned her a small smile. The Mistress’s mouth quirked up slightly as she motioned a regale hand to the digital ordering menu. “You have been here before I take it, why don’t you order us something? I will defer to your tastes _for now._ ” 

The way she said it made Elita One’s whole array ache. It also set her spark spinning hard behind her thick chest plating. Dangerous. The Mistress sounded dangerous. _Frag_. 

She wasn’t used to feeling like prey to a much larger predator but it felt...she couldn’t exactly describe how it made her spark swell too big and then shrink too small at the same time. If her maroon chest plating had been any thinner The Mistress would have seen her spark flaring wildly. 

Instead she swallowed hard and shifted her legs subtly under the table before ordering some sparkling mid-grade and some of the smoky green energon goodies she had a fondness for. Ordering gave her a moment to martial her thoughts but they were absolutely scattered again when she looked back and saw the look The Mistress of Flame was actively giving her. Like she wanted to devour _her_ instead of the meal Elita One had ordered. 

By the Nine Hells she was not prepared for that look. 

Somehow Elita had already lost control of this situation in ways she had not originally anticipated. She had planned for this, not exactly this but some scenario like this, living it was entirely different from imagining it though. 

She had to...try to regain her composure and actually make her intentions clear. Make clear what she wanted. What she expected. Elita One wasn’t anyone’s prey. Even if that’s what her spark and array were telling her she very much wanted to be. 

Elita laid her hands palm down flat on the table and set her shoulders back and chest out. “I feel like perhaps I should make my intentions clear. I find you attractive Mistress, your bearing and frame intrigue me. I want to have a relatively short dinner with you and a much longer evening back in my quarters. Would you be amenable to such an arrangement? Perhaps for this one night we could set aside our political positions and just enjoy each other’s company?”

The Mistress of Flame laughed, it was light and airy and made Elita One’s facial plating tickle, her smile was crooked as she stroked her chin. The Mistress’s golden optics shining like a cybercat’s in the dimness of the restaurant. “Ah Elita so blunt, where is your sense of seduction? Sensuality. Solus Prime forged us to feel; pain or pleasure, joy or sorrow, we are made to live sensorily.” She paused and laid her hands on the table again, reaching out towards Elita One’s but not quite touching them, simply gliding them over the surface of the black polished table so that she could do nothing but watch them, her spark pounding.

The Mistress of Flame’s voice was a lower purr when she spoke again. “For example I could take your hands in mine, play with the joints in your fingers and stroke your palms and wrists while we chatted about all the things you want to do tonight, _after dinner_. Instead, stiffly there you sit, wound tighter than the Velocitronian councilman’s suspension cables. What is it that is making you so nervous I wonder?”

Elita One couldn’t hear her own thoughts anymore, only the sound of her own labored vents and the soothing hum of the Mistress’s across from her. 

She didn’t have to answer right away though because the energon and the goodies arrived and she was able to distract herself momentarily by pouring them both a glass and pushing the tray of goodies into the center of the table. It was only a small reprieve because when she went to take a drink she almost choked on it because The Mistress of Flame took one of the goodies, ran it over her lips, before pushing it into her mouth slowly and savouring it. She couldn’t look away. 

Elita One hated feeling like a stumbling silly little newspark. She took one of the gummies to have something to do with her mouth, shoving three in there and chewing stubbornly. The Mistress laughed at her again, it was a tinkling and light sound of amusement. When she spoke it was fond, which caught Elita off guard. “Have it your way then. Stubborn and blunt seems to be how you like it.”

She was about to say something biting back when The Mistress of Flame cut her grumbling off by leaning across the table, towering over as she spoke darkly, her whole demeanor suddenly crackling with raw static power. “Elita One I will give you exactly what you want tonight. Whatever you ask for in berth will be yours as I suspect I know already what it is you’re after. However, I won’t do anything you don’t explicitly ask me for. You desire something? Use those blunt words of yours. If you’re not prepared to ask for something then you’re certainly not ready to actually receive it.” With that she leaned back all the way in the booth and reclined luxuriously, watching her face with interest through narrowed golden optics.

 _Fragging Hell._

Elita One was...way out of her depth, though too far out from the shore to stop now. She needed it. Needed this. _Needed her._ There was no going back now, only forward and through.

Elita leaned forward and dared to slide her hands across the table, her fingers barely touching the tips of The Mistress’s as she spoke clipped and snarling. “I want you to take me, hold me down, tie me up if you feel like it, and frag me so hard I can’t remember my own designation. Use me. I want to be used. Feel free to push me to the point of pain and to keep going, I’m very sturdy and can take it. I want to take it. That’s what I’m asking for tonight Mistress, do you think you can do that?”

Her yellow optics flashed and Elita’s spark jumped into her throat as The Mistress of Flame grabbed her hands in hers, lacing their fingers together tightly as she smiled. It was brilliant and absolutely wicked. Elita One had never seen a more attractive expression on a mech.

When The Mistress spoke it was a rumble that sent hot shivers down her spinal strut. “Oh yes Elita, I can do all of that and a great deal _more_. Remember my rule though: you must always ask for what you want. If you are reduced to gasps and whining tap your fingers three times fast on any part of my or your frame and I will stop immediately. I will stop if you say so and I reserve the right to stop for any reason myself. This goes both ways. Ask me to do something I don’t wish to do to you and I won’t do it. Are we in accord?”

Elita squeezed her hands back hard and licked her lips before nodding. The Mistress of Flame raised on red brow ridge at her expectantly and and Elita One sighed exasperated before mumbling. “ Fine, yes, we have an accord. That sounds...agreeable to me. I will endeavor to always tell you what I want and what I don’t want.”

The Mistress smiled hungrily again and brought Elita’s hands to her lips and kissed her knuckles quickly before letting go of them. “Excellent. As delicious as these goodies are, I am curious to see what other treats this night has in store for us. For this part I shall let you lead.” She gestured at the winding hallway that led out of the restaurant. 

Elita had to stop herself from jumping up and practically pulling her out of the building behind her. She could have managed it despite the height difference, she was incredibly strong. Instead she nodded, flashed her wrist to pay their tab over the automated ordering service and then offered The Mistress of Flame her hand. She took it with that small crooked smirk and they excited the establishment hand in hand. Which felt, well it felt strangely tender for what they were doing. It was just interfacing after all, deeply depraved playing with pain and pleasure type interfacing, but still just facing.

The other reason Elita One had chosen that particular restaurant was it was very close to the towers her habsuite on Cybertron was located in. A part of her did enjoy the walk back though, The Mistress of Flame loomed over her, though it felt more reassuring than intimidating in the moment. Her hand was bigger and smoother than her own but it was just as warm. 

When they finally got inside Elita One led her straight back to berth. The Mistress murmured something about “bluntness” but followed her willingly. 

There was some fumbling on her part as she let go of her hand and went to stand beside the berth but she had laid out many of the implements on it beforehand. Elita One had enlisted Obsidian to obtain some of the items...discreetly as they weren’t particularly subtle in their designed purposes. 

Elita One watched nervously, hands clenched at rest behind her back as The Mistress of Flame examined her available equipment with interest. Elita visibly shivered when she would pick something up, test its heft and weight in her hands, run them over it to test its elasticity and strength, or simply play with the various settings. Her spark skipped when The Mistress picked up a particular piece, a long silver electric prod that ended in a double pronged fork. 

She must have made some sort of noise or other indication because The Mistress turned to her and smiled while pointing it at her chest. “Ah. This one. The spreader bars and the cuffs as well. Mmmm, ropes? Yes, I think I’d like to string you up. Although I won’t use any of them if we’re not in agreement, what do you want me to use on you Elita One. Be specific.” As she spoke she began to stalk closer to her. 

_Oh_. Oh frag her. 

She was, getting Elita to explicitly state what she wanted was not just for ongoing consent, it was a part of their power game. Another way to break through her defenses and expose her vulnerable protoform in this thing they were doing. She should have hated that, it should have made her call the whole thing off actually. The Mistress wanted to get under her plating as well as her panels. This was hazardous for more reasons than one. The possibility of being injured, wounded deeply, was increased when she was like this.

That only made her valve leak more as her spike tried to pressurize behind its housing. 

Elita One ground her teeth and tried to not bare her fangs as she spoke. “I want the bars, the cuffs, the ropes, and the electric prod. You can string me up or not, get me into whatever position you need to have me in to use the other things. I want to be teased and tortured and then taken, roughly. Is that descriptive enough for you?”

The Mistress of Flame tapped the inactive prod against her thigh thoughtfully before removing her cloak in one fluid motion and setting it over the padded square chair in the corner of Elita’s berthroom. She pointed the prod at her and engaged the electricity in a quick sizzle, the end crackled with blue light. “That will do, for now, but put the rest of this away. We won’t be needing it tonight.” 

Elita One scowled and did as she was told. The whole time she couldn’t stop thinking of The Mistress tying her down to the berth. Being helpless, totally at her not so tender mercy, it made her whole array throb deep inside. She wasn’t leaking from the seams of it yet but it wouldn’t take much at this point. 

The Mistress motioned for her kneel on the berth and as she did she felt her hand graze her shoulder pauldron and travel over her back to grip her neck from behind. Her whole hand easily came around her throat from the back. Elita One had to fight a gasp, the Mistress definitely noticed and chuckled. 

The Mistress of Flame ran her hand down her back and spread her thighs wide, then kept moving down to position her feet about an arm’s length apart. Then Elita felt the spreader bars magnetize to her ankles. The Mistress leaned over her and whispered in her audial. “I can adjust the length of those whenever I please so be prepared to be spread wider...if that’s what you want of course.” There was definitely a taunting sneer to her last words and it made Elita One’s energon boil.

But The Mistress had stopped moving and was just waiting on her to say that was what she wanted, and Elita hated her. Almost as much as she desired her. Almost. She let out a shaky vent as she spoke. “I want you to spread me so wide my knees and hips groan at maintaining it. I want it to hurt.”

She couldn’t see The Mistress’s face, though she could hear the smile in her voice as she chuckled “Good.” 

Then The Mistress grabbed her roughly by the wrists with her other hand hauled them above her head hard enough to make the joints audibly creak before cuffing them with the stasis cuffs. Elita automatically felt weaker, these cuffs were designed for interfacing not holding a prisoner but they still sapped her of some of her physical might. 

Her spark was trilling in her chest, strobing and bobbing as The Mistress ran the braided steel rope through the links in the cuffs up to the eye hook in Elita’s ceiling. This was exactly what she wanted. There was nothing for her to hide behind now, she was spread wide and pulled up by her wrists, her hips and shoulders straining already. This is what she had asked for and this was what she was being given. 

The Mistress finished stringing her up and then left briefly to bring over the empty chair which she put at the end of the berth. She then picked up the electric prod from the berth again and traced it over her massive back and chest plating, letting the prongs catch in the places between her armor with a twang. Which in turn made Elita jump slightly. The Mistress seemed to be taking her time, sizing her up, admiring Elita’s arms as they pulled against the cuffs above her head. 

Then Elita One remembered the Unmaker be damned rules. Scrap.“I want you to use that on me, catch me when I’m not expecting it, shove in between my armor and turn it on. Hell you can even use it on my array if you want. I want you to hurt me.”

As soon as Elita finished saying that she felt The Mistress run those long fingers down the back of her head to wrap around her throat as she murmured. “Very good. The stubborn, surprisingly obedient, thing will get what she wants...this time.”

The Mistress of Flame removed her hand from her neck and she felt the prod catch her between the pauldrons on her shoulders and her back kibble. The shock was stronger than Elita One was expecting, it jolted through her lines, burning and sizzling brightly with white hot pain. 

Elita gasped but didn’t let her electrical systems lock up to reroute it and ground the charge into the berth or spread it out among her various parts. She sent it straight to her array instead. It hurt, the electroconductive transfluid there sparked and crackled over her wet node and valve opening. The charge jumped once from her node to her spike with a loud crack and she cried out and tried to go limp but the cuffs and spreader bars held her in place. 

The Mistress paused at her reaction and withdrew the prod to move around to look at her face. As soon as she was facing her on the berth she jabbed the prod into the armor plating right below her spark and turned it on an even higher setting. 

Elita One rerouted it again and this time it hit her whole array even harder and made her entire frame shake. Her plating rattled over her protoform and The Mistress of Flame narrowed her glowing gold optics and let them wander her frame till they settled on her panel. It wasn’t till her attention was there that Elita realized she was leaking thick gobs of transfluid and had been since she had first been cuffed and strung up. Ah. 

The Mistress’s optics lit up with understanding and she grinned at Elita One widely as she ran the turned off prod up under her chin and tilted it up so she had to look into her face as she spoke. “Clever. Desperate, thing. But you didn’t tell me you were going to do that, that you wanted to do that. So no more of that until you do. Tell me exactly what you’ve been up, to or stop it. Your choice.”

Elita One grit her teeth and growled at her lowly. Her fans were running so high they were whining trying to keep up with how much radiant heat she was making. The Mistress simply smiled at her benevolently and withdrew the prod from under her chin. Elita’s engine turned over and she struggled against the spreader bar magnetized to her ankles and the berth but she was well and truly stuck.That made her drip several more rivulets of transfluid down from the seams of her panel onto her inner thighs. Frag it. 

She reset her vocalizer several times before grumbling up at her. “I was directing the whole charge through my lines to my array then trapping it in there. Letting it build with every shock you gave me.”

The Mistress of Flame nodded and then moved back to the chair she had positioned to the edge of the berth and sat down like she was pouring herself into the seat. She leaned back and stuck her legs up on the berth, one of her heels stopping just in front of Elita’s still covered array. 

When she didn’t make any move to pick up the prod and electrocute her again Elita made a frustrated grunt and tried to roll her hips towards her heel. The Mistress tutted at her and withdrew the heel, all the while watching her with amused optics as she spoke. “Ah is there something you want then? My rule is I’ll only do things to you that you ask for, but it’s my discretion when or if I’ll do those things. You did say you wanted to be teased and tortured my poor long suffering thing.” 

Elita One groaned as her spike tried to pressurize behind her panel painfully. She was slowly being dragged deeper and deeper into whatever was making her want this. It felt like she was sinking and starting to climb into the atmosphere at the same time. Time had narrowed down to those golden optics watching her greedily and the feeling of her own array being so aroused it physically hurt. She both did and didn’t want her to touch her with that heel of hers. 

It was novel how she was so conflicted about it. The Mistress of Flame somehow knew what she needed though. She rested her head on her hand as she let her optics narrow on Elita One’s panel. “Show me where you’ve been sending that electricity hungry thing. I want to look at you.”

She was transforming her panel away almost before The Mistress had finished speaking. Elita didn’t make a noise as the cool air of the room hit her exposed and sopping array. Instead she bit her lip hard enough to draw energon with her fangs as her spike pressurized fully in a single hard jerk. The Mistress made an appreciative noise at the sight of her energon pink spike leaking a thin line of purple transfluid under her gaze. She murmured; “Do you want me to touch you there my play thing?” and Elita One was rasping out “Yes!” before she finished speaking.

The Mistress of Flame laughed at her and it sounded slightly strained, it was only then Elita One noticed that her fans had come on too. Both their vents and cooling fans were on full blast now. The fact that she hadn’t thought about whether The Mistress was enjoying this till now momentarily jerked her out of whatever strange and syrupy headspace she was drifting into. 

But she obviously was now as she stood and loomed over Elita on the berth, practically spread out and open for her to use as she wanted. The Mistress of Flame reached down and stroked her cheek affectionately before cooing. “Ah so eager, it’s endearing when you’re normally so...cautious. But you said you wanted to be used and teased. So I will touch your array...just only with my foot, and only when I want, while you dutifully suck my spike. Open your mouth my greedy thing.”

Elita wasn’t expecting that and her mouth simply opened of its own accord as she gasped at the sight of The Mistress transforming away her paneling and exposing only her spike. The Mistress of Flame’s spike was...just as white and gold, tapered and ornate, and as beautifully elegant as the rest of her frame. It was also more than proportional for her frame type. Getting that into her mouth was going to be...challenging. She suddenly wanted her to shove it inside her mouth without stopping to see if she could even take it. Elita moaned out at her. “Stuff me with it!”

She would never forget the deeply smug look on The Mistress of Flame’s face as she braced both arms on the wall behind the berth and thrust her hips towards her mouth while rumbling. “Gladly.”

She surprised herself and didn’t choke around it on that first deep thrust. Her bright blue optics started to fritz but she couldn’t look away as she felt the large flat head of her spike push past her fangs, over her tongue and bump against the back of her intake. _By the Unmaker._

Elita One did choke when she felt the top of The Mistress’s foot bump lightly up against the bottom of her straining spike and then push onto her node and valve lips heavily. The Mistress of Flame’s gold optics flashed in delight in the darkened lights of Elita’s berthroom as she slid her spike out of her mouth and then rammed it back in, further than it had gone the first time. 

Elita’s head tipped back as far as it could go and she felt the spike block off her oral intake completely. Then that torturous foot was pressing her spike against her abdominal plating in grinding circles and she was moaning, though no sound but a quiet gagging made it past the spike pressed firmly against her vocalizer. The charge that had been trapped in her array was still humming and thumping inside her and her valve was desperately clenching and cycling down on nothing. She wanted more. It was too much and yet not in the right way, she needed more. 

This was like fighting two enemies at once but she had both her hands cuffed and instead of battle it was the berth. The whole experience was what she had wanted though, exactly what she wanted and she was reveling in it. 

That out of time flowing feeling was washing over her now, she wasn’t sure when it took over completely but she was there now and everything that happened to her body felt like freedom. If she had been remotely religious she would have said The Mistress of Flame made her leave her own body somehow and reach some different sort of plane. 

There was pain in her frame, in her hips and shoulders and her array, but it was nothing now. The Mistress could have torn her plating from her protoform and she would have only felt the hot surge of energon as pleasure. The strangest part of all was she felt like a great and terrible weight she had been dragging around on her shoulder her whole life was gone. Elita One felt light. 

The heat and the billowing air of their vents wrapped her up in the warmth of the room and made her drift, her mouth was just a thrust open, drooling, well lubricated hole for the Mistress to use now. And through all this The Mistress of Flame was looking down at her with wide, awe-filled optics.

She had started grinding the top of her foot up against her entire array in time with her hips thrusting into her mouth and Elita One felt her first overload hit her like a jolt from the stun prod. Transfluid spurted from her spike on The Mistress’s heel. Elita’s optics started to go bright white with another quickly approaching overload, then Mistress suddenly grabbed her head final in a crushing grip and snapped at her. “Not yet. Not until I’ve had mine.” 

Elita One groaned but obliged actively sucking her spike now, mouthing her lips over it as The Mistress fragged her mouth with it faster. She removed her foot from Elita’s still pulsing array and she keened around her spike, then stopped when she noticed The Mistress unsubspace something. 

Her optics focused back on The Mistress’s face as she shakily pushed off from the wall above her and cupped her face with one hand and the silver pronged prod with the other. “I could do practically anything to you right now, cause all sorts of pain and damage, some of it very hard to reverse. But I won’t because you haven’t asked for that. What I will do is overload down your intake while I shock you with this, ground it in your array, I don’t want to feel it through my plaything.” 

Elita One only had a moment to process her instructions before The Mistress jabbed both prongs of the electro-prod in the space between her node and the base of her spike and turned it on full charge. 

She screamed around her spike as she felt The Mistress of Flame overload several thick spurts of hot transfluid down her intake. The shock did hurt, it burned and made her whole array convulse and clench painfully, but it also made her overload at the same time. Elita One was writhing and howling trapped in place while The Mistress held her there firmly on her spike until she was finished overloading inside her. Her head pressed forward so far that she had almost managed to her her entire spike down her throat. Elita One then felt her optics blink out audibly as her processor started to crash into a white out. 

Elita One came fully online in a blink and immediately armed her laser canon. The Mistress didn’t seem surprised at that reaction as she already had her hands up in front of her chest in the universal gesture of surrender. “You force rebooted. You are perfectly safe here with me, feel free to run a full systems diagnostic and you will find I haven’t tampered with you. Well, not in any way you didn’t fully consent to.” The last part was said with a shadow of that smug smile from earlier. 

She quickly ran a diagnostic program and found that she was right, she was mostly fine. A few broken circuits and synapses and the burns, lots of electrical burns on some very... delicate places, though nothing her self repair and nanites couldn’t take care of in a few cycles. The Mistress also appeared to have cleaned her up while she was rebooting and put away the ropes, cuffs, and prod. 

That made her feel something, gratitude? Something she wasn’t expecting from this. The Mistress of Flame was seated next to her prone form on the berth and had both her hands clasped daintily in her lap now, without thinking Elita One reached out and took one. The Mistress let her have it easily and held her hand back. 

Elita didn’t expect her to speak so when she did it made her jumpy slightly. “Was this your first time doing something like this Elita One? You have an impressive collection of toys either way, and you performed admirably.”

Suddenly she felt out of her depth again and strangely shy. That was something she hadn’t been for most of her life and she didn’t like it. She huffed and looked up at the ceiling as she spoke. “Yes, it was and thank you. Your assistance was much appreciated, Mistress of Flame.”

The Mistress scoffed and waved her free hand through the air in front of Elita’s face making her look back at her. “Well since this was your first time, and our first time together, I should make it clear I don’t intend to leave you tonight. We don’t have to share the berth if you don’t want to but I’m not going anywhere until I’ve made sure you don’t experience any adverse effects from our playing. Also it’s Incendiis. Don’t call me The Mistress of Flame when we are here doing this, Incendiss or simply Mistress will do in the future.” 

Elita One opened her mouth to object, that this was just a one time experience, that she didn’t need to know her original designation, that she wanted her to leave. But each and every one of those protests were lies. She knew it, Incendiss knew it. 

Elita was so completely and utterly fragged.

That was a problem for her and Obsidian to deal with in the coming weeks when she would inevitably find herself bound and writhing under The Mistress again and need some sort of out or explanation. For now it was enough to hold her hand. Elita swallowed hard, the taste of the Mistress of-of Incendiis’s bright blue transfluid still tangy in her mouth. When she spoke her vocalizer glitched several times. “You can lay here with me...if you like.”

There it was again, that fond expression she wasn’t sure she’d done anything to deserve and then The Mistress of Flame was laying down next her, stretched out languidly in her berth, one hand holding hers, the other now gently tracing circles on her stomach plating. It felt, well it felt like a different sort of vulnerability. Elita One wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this. But her deeply confusing feelings about The Mistress didn’t stop Elita One from falling into recharge while carefully being wrapped up in her long, sinewy arms. 

Her last thoughts before drifting off were blissfully simple: she wanted to do this with her again, for as long as they both could get away with it. Consequences be damned. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for the femslash February Transformers fic exchange for Iron on here, @fab_roddy on Twitter! She wanted sexy kinky Mistress/Elita and I attempted to deliver!!! Hope you like it Muse!!!
> 
> I realize after writing this that I haven't written much TF BDSM and now I want to...it's fun all the stuff robots can do with their anatomy and the various kinky applications that they can do that we puny humans can't etc. The possibilities are...delicious.


End file.
